


Say your faith is shaken

by GioseleLouise



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Meetings, Human!Zagreus has no self worth, Imprisonment, M/M, Praised Starved Zagreus, Revelations, Sisyphus Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27741832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GioseleLouise/pseuds/GioseleLouise
Summary: Zagreus takes a deliberate step forward and digs his heel into the earth just to hear dirt crunching. He keeps moving, the branches continue parting. Underfoot, leaves and pebbles continue scattering as if pushed by a silent, unfelt wind.Something is leading him. Something is watching him. Zagreus is convinced it’s his god. It has to be.--Zagreus is a human, a priest of Ares, and he is sent by his god to investigate a mysterious island.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 410





	Say your faith is shaken

**Author's Note:**

> A lovely translation into Русский available: [Если твоя вера пошатнулась](https://ficbook.net/readfic/10381556) by Кузя-кот

It's a good day; no one died.

It's a sentiment Zagreus repeats to himself as he pushes through the thick forest. There’s a path here; a trail where overgrown branches and vines hover over him, hanging a hair's breadth from his skin. Following is easier than slashing his way through the bush, so he pushes through, ignores the knot in his gut begging him to run back to shore. 

“O, Lord Ares,” Zagreus whispers. Even with his voice so quiet, Zagreus hears it quake. 

“Is this your will? Is it you leading me?”

For a long moment, all he hears is the sound of his breathing and his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. The silence crawls over his skin, mixes with the weight of eyes on his back and makes Zagreus feel like he's drowning in dread. There is something very wrong with this island. Everything in him is screaming _danger_ , to turn and run, to leave, and yet-

Zagreus takes a deliberate step forward and digs his heel into the earth just to hear dirt crunching. He keeps moving, the branches continue parting. Underfoot, leaves and pebbles continue scattering as if pushed by a silent, unfelt wind.

Something is leading him. Something is watching him. Zagreus is convinced it’s his god. It has to be.

_Ares came to him in a dream the night the dyings stopped. The god of War was marvelous, beautiful and towering above Zagreus in golden armor. Ares’ blood red eyes pierced him and Zagreus felt like an ant under the scrutiny of his god’s gaze, so he bowed his head and waited for his god to speak._

_“There’s an island to the west. I will ensure you know it when you awaken.” Ares snapped his fingers and red mists surrounded Zagreus, coalescing into a sword within arm’s reach. “Take my will and go forward. Investigate.” Ares’ tone sharpened, thin and pressing, “That island is why Death has stopped.”_

_Zagreus has seldom been close to a sword, but even he can recognize a master’s craftsmanship. The rubies embedded in the hilt were likely worth more than his entire temple’s valuables, combined._

_Does he deserve to wield something so divine?_

_“I’m honored by your presence, my Lord, but...why me? I am not a warrior or a seer. Nor am I familiar with the lands beyond the city. Surely another servant could better carry out your will.”_

_“You are a good and dutiful priest, Zagreus. Do not doubt my judgement in this, your investigation will bring to light many mysteries. Including your own.”_

_Zagreus has long given up on the mystery of himself. He knows who he is: an orphan with an ugly, cursed eye; a man saved from early death by the favor of his god._

_But Ares' words caressed him. Ares said Zagreus is a Good Priest. Ares said Zagreus is Dutiful. And lonely, wretched Zagreus was like a starving dog before a feast - he would've done anything to continue lapping up his god's praise._

_So Zagreus took the sword and woke with it in his hand._

Zagreus still remembers Ares’ magic, the thrum of power vibrating through his body like war drums, and he tries not to dwell on how different it feels from the tense aura of dread here. 

The sword is a marvelous gift, a piece of Ares' will, but it is also a weapon. His fellow priests say he’s slow, too quiet, too quick to apologize, but even he can recognize symbolism when it’s thrown in his face. Or in this case, when it’s tied to his hip. Zagreus has never raised a weapon against someone. No matter his faith in his god, Zagreus can’t shake the feeling that he’s walking to his death.

The forest suddenly ends in a circular clearing, its edges sharp, as if the gods had reached from the heavens to carve it with a knife. A lone, giant cypress tree is in the middle, and there's a man sitting with his back to it, his arms chained around the thick trunk.

Zagreus doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t move, but the man suddenly looks up, right at the spot of branches that hide Zagreus. Even from a distance, the man has a familiar face, one any priest of Ares can recognize. His is a proud god, and their temple was never short of sacrifice and art. Zagreus spent his life surrounded by likenesses of War and Death.

Shaking, he steps into the clearing. He makes it four steps before his knees sink into the dirt and he bows his head, “Lord Thanatos.”

Everything makes sense now. This is why nothing has died in two days, why Zagreus was given his god's sword. Death Incarnate has been chained and Ares has sent Zagreus to release him.

What an honor.

“Stand up, Zagreus,” says the god of Death, his voice is close, as if he were speaking into Zagreus’ ear. “Why am I not surprised that your god is imposing a price for my freedom?”

"He's not," says Zagreus immediately, before he swallows. "Um. Forgive me, Lord Thanatos. I mean to say, he never stated a price. Only to take his will and bring it here,” Zagreus gets up, holds Ares’ sword out as he rushes to the bound god. “Lord Thanatos, I believe my god sent me here to save you."

"No, Zagreus,” Thanatos squints at the weapon in distaste. “He wishes to bind me. The sword is a contract, and you, Zagreus, you're the price."

Zagreus doesn't know what to say to that. 

Priesthood exposed him to the works of poets and historians, and Zagreus was quick to recognize a recurring theme: deities will always fight and mortals will always suffer when they get involved. 

This situation reeks of a game between gods, and Zagreus knows better than to meddle. Better to stay ignorant of the dynamic between Death and War. Better if Zagreus doesn’t ask why he's a "price". 

It’s best if he frees Death and removes himself from this damned island as quickly as possible. 

“Get that weapon away from me,” Thanatos snaps. “Did you not hear me? The sword is a contract, fool.” For a moment, Death glares as Zagreus stands, frozen in place. Then, the god’s elegant features soften. He speaks slowly, as if talking to a child.

“I will owe Ares a favor if you use his sword to help me. I do not want to. Use my weapon instead.”

Zagreus blinks. “Where-”

“Behind this tree.”

Phoenician purple quickly catches his eye, and Zagreus gasps at Death’s scythe so carelessly thrown into the dirt. Death’s sword lies a short distance away from its partner, as if kicked away. Tenderly, Zagreus balances Ares’ sword against the trunk. Then, delicately, carefully, he brushes dirt from Thanatos’ weapons, wincing at the disregard for such sacred weapons, and takes them in his hands. 

Power surges into his palms; it’s like he's holding a live fire.

“The scythe is sharper, but more difficult to wield,” says Thanatos. Although he sits on the other side of the tree, his voice is close, as if he were speaking in Zagreus’ ear. “Use my sword to cut through this chain.”

“Yes, Lord Thanatos.” Obedient, Zagreus rests the scythe next to Death’s chained right hand. The loss in power is immediate, almost jarring, like falling down an unexpected step. 

Zagreus can’t help but think of his own god’s sword, abandoned against the trunk of the cypress.

“Lord Thanatos, Lord Ares’ sword is...my god will know I disobeyed him. Do you think he’ll be displeased with my actions?”

Thanatos looks up at him through a curtain of silver bangs. His tone drips with impatience, “I will take care of Ares.”

Zagreus swallows. “I mean to say, Lord Thanatos, that my god's favor is the only thing keeping me safe. My town only allows me to stay because of-”

“That’s untrue, Zagreus.”

Zagreus waits for Thanatos to continue, but Death just stares as wind blows in.

The forest around them shakes in the breeze, and it suddenly dawns on Zagreus how perfectly defined the edges of the clearing are. Tree trunks are cleaved in half and branches stop in blunt ends, as if lopped by a sword. Nothing seemed to have stopped the formation of a perfect circle centered around the god of Death.

Thanatos must be powerful to do such a thing while chained. Perhaps, Zagreus thinks, it's best to face Ares’ wrath later than to suffer Thanatos' might now. 

Zagreus lifts the sword, and catches the god watching him.

“Admiring my work?” Asks Death. "I take it, it's not your style?"

“No. Um. I mean- I suppose it’s a very grand show of power, Lord Thanatos.”

“I was joking, Zagreus.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

The god sighs. They continue in awkward silence, broken only by the sharp ring of metal sawing through metal. Once in a while, Thanatos pulls, testing the strength of the chain links, and Zagreus very deliberately does not stare at the swell of the god’s arm. 

“I did not want the mortals to find me like this,” Thanatos says as Zagreus works through the last half of the link. “Hence what I’ve done to the island. Dread is a fine way to discourage curiosity among humans. Wouldn’t you agree, Zagreus?”

Zagreus squints at the chains, the progress made and the progress needed, and says, absentmindedly, “It's good I still managed to find my way to you, Lord Thanatos.”

“Indeed,” responds the god. There's an odd tilt to his voice that catches Zagreus’ attention. Then-

_Zag, you idiot! Think before you speak._

“I'm so sorry. I-I didn’t mean any offense, Lord Thanatos. Your magic is incredible, and I'm sure I only got through thanks to the aid of my god."

“No. You didn’t. Offend, that is. Regardless of Ares' influence, the path through the forest only opens...” Thanatos chokes around a word, expression twisting as he gasps for air. "...Damn it."

"Lord Thanatos, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be pressing you to talk. Are you alright?"

"Stop apologizing," Thanatos groans as he yanks at his chain impatiently. "And stop...ugh. Just hurry with your task before I do something I regret."

Zagreus nods and continues cutting. He doesn't look over, doesn't speak, but feels the god watching him as he works. The chain shakes in his hand on the last bit; it’s close and he speeds up, arm burning as he saws the metal. 

Zagreus cries out when the chain finally breaks. "Thank the gods," he sighs.

"No, thank you," Thanatos corrects. He pulls on the chain, gathers the trailing metal in his right hand. "You've done well, Zagreus. I'll have Hephaestus remove these from my person. So long as I am not tethered to the earth, I can manage the trip to Olympus."

Zagreus bows his head and smiles at the god’s praise. 

_You’ve done well, Zagreus._

"I am pleased to have served you, Lord Thanatos."

He holds out Thanatos’ sword, hilt leading, and thinks about Ares’ weapon, still leaning against the back of the tree.

“Lord Thanatos,” Zagreus starts. “If you could speak to my god-”

“Ares,” Thanatos growls. Suddenly, there’s a hand on his jaw, and Zagreus gasps, reels back, but Death’s grip is strong, too strong to allow Zagreus to get away.

“Look at me,” Thanatos commands. Zagreus hates that he has to fight a squeak from escaping his throat, but he swallows, looks up.

Sculptures and paintings, Zagreus realizes, do not do the god of Death justice. 

Thanatos is beautiful, and Zagreus loses his breath at how close they are. Zagreus can count individual strands of silver hair, can trace the angle of his cheekbones. He can see Thanatos’ effortless grace, and the way Death looks so perfectly put together in the clearing’s bright light.

Zagreus can see his eyes.

With the exception of his god, no one can bear to meet Zagreus’ eyes. People say his black eye is evil; that looking into it feels like death. Zagreus grew up with neighbors flinching at him, with parents steering their children away from him. Even the priesthood acknowledges that he is cursed, and it is through Ares’ grace that they took him in and put him to work copying books in the backrooms of the temple.

But Thanatos seems unaffected. He seems focused, even, on keeping Zagreus' gaze. The god stares until Zagreus crumbles, unused to such attention, and pulls away.

Thanatos lets him, but his hand stays on his face, his thumb gently tracing Zagreus’ jaw. 

“Gods, Zagreus, you are so far from what you are supposed to be." 

“What does that mean?” Zagreus asks, struggling to keep from leaning in, from pressing into Thanatos’ warmth. Zagreus can count on one hand the number of times someone was this close, and it’s been...almost a lifetime since he was touched like this. 

Sense tells him to shut up a moment too late.

“I-” Thanatos sighs. “I cannot tell you. I’m bound...but, I think...I can show you. Will you trust me?”

Zagreus holds back a laugh. Trust Death? Gods, he feels like he’s in a riddle. Or a fable. The poets will be singing of Stupid Zagreus for aeons. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should have just released Death with Ares’ weapon. Or he should’ve dropped Thanatos sword and ran back to shore, accepting the wrath of his own god.

Deities play games while mortals suffer. He knows better; it’s not too late to run.

But, Zagreus can’t find the strength to pull away from the warm fingers on his chin or the heat of Thanatos' body. He thinks of Thanatos’ divine golden eyes looking into his, not shying away like Zagreus is something cursed and disturbing.

All thought leaves his mind as fingers entwine in his.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Zagreus asks breathlessly.

"You won't die, Zagreus."

He wouldn't mind dying like this: touched by a god and nearly vibrating out of his skin from the intimacy of it all.

Zagreus squints at the dirt by his feet, "Earlier you said I was a price. Are you collecting me, Lord Death? Is this all just a trick? Death's fancy wording to claim my soul?”

There’s a long moment of silence. Zagreus shifts in place, uncomfortable, as it drags on. Tentatively, he glances up and anticipates anger or stoic condemnation, but Thanatos is just staring at him, eyelashes fluttering in bewildered amusement. 

"Do you often behave this way? As if you have any idea what you're talking about?” 

Zagreus laughs because he’s lost; he doesn’t know what else to do. Knows less, when Thanatos brightens at his laughter.

_How do I turn down a god?_ Zagreus wonders. Thanatos is looking at him so warmly, it makes his chest feel like it's filled with light and fire. _Gods, is this how other mortals felt when they encountered one of the pantheon in the flesh?_

"Please," Thanatos says, and it's incredible that a god is begging. "Let me show you, Zagreus. You deserve better than this, at least."

“I…”

The hand in his tightens. “Please."

"Okay," Zagreus manages, because he’s out of options. Because he doesn’t know how to politely turn down a god, and because Thanatos’ touch is warm and addicting and Zagreus was doomed the moment Thanatos looked into his eyes. 

“Good. I shall take us now, Zagreus. Don’t let go of my hand.”

“Okay,” Zagreus agrees, as if that was even an option. "I won't. Please, just, don't..." _hurt me._

Hollow words, Zagreus thinks as he squeezes Thanatos’ palm. 

"I won't," says Thanatos, like he knows, and Zagreus can't help but bask in the comfort of his touch when Thanatos squeezes back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> This idea would not leave my head until I got it on paper. May commit to turning this into a series if I can dig up the inspo, but for now, it's an open-ended standalone :)
> 
> As always, much love to my darling beta, Didi. Your encouragement means the world.  
> Prompts and feedback are always welcome - come say hi @ giosele.tumblr.com.


End file.
